Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Palau and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Porter Ricks to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
cv313,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Barracudas,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
F. McDonald,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
John Foxx,
Cymande,
Robert Görl,
Boz Scaggs,
Motorama,
Sight & Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Bush Tetras,
H. Thieme,
Saccharine Trust,
Moss Icon,
Donny Hathaway,
Cluster,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Althea and Donna,
Peter & Gordon,
John Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Wyatt,
X-102,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blake Baxter,
The Red Krayola,
Rufus Thomas,
The Neon Judgement,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Youth Brigade,
Shuggie Otis,
Liliput,
The Slits,
Ultimate Spinach,
Y Pants,
Scan 7,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vainqueur,
Roxy Music,
Gang Green,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rekid,
Warsaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris Corsano,
Ken Boothe,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Deakin,
The Searchers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.